


Sink Or Swim

by silver_etoile



Category: SKAM (Netherlands)
Genre: M/M, alternate season 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 13:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21447154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: A new boy in Lucas' life might be all that he was missing.A season 3 imagination...
Relationships: Lucas van der Heijden/Original Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in denial, so yeah. Find me on [tumblr](http://azozzoni.tumblr.com).

“Don’t you think she’s hot?” Jayden asked, and Lucas didn’t open his eyes, leaning back on the bench and soaking in what was probably the last of the summer sun.

“Totally hot,” Kes agreed, and Lucas grimaced as Jayden elbowed him in the side.

Blinking in the sun, he lowered his head, smoothing down his bright shirt and frowning at Jayden shoving the phone in his face, open to Instagram and some girl he didn’t know.

“Hot, right?” Jayden asked, as though Lucas cared.

He was supposed to care, he told himself as he nodded at Jayden’s question. “Sure.”

“Sure?” Jayden repeated, and Lucas could hear the skepticism in his voice, the obvious _of course she’s hot, you idiot, why don’t you see it too?_ “Since when do you have high standards?”

Lucas didn’t. That was the thing. He kissed any girl who wanted to because it was either that or kiss no one and risk getting asked the question he dreaded.

“I just don’t have low standards,” he replied instead, and Jayden made a face as Kes laughed beside him. Lucas cracked a smile at his own joke, watching people cross the lawn, heading to class like they should have been. The afternoon sun waned as their break passed by.

“Alright, player,” Jayden said, rolling his eyes. “For all those girls, you can’t seem to get any to date you.”

He didn’t _want_ to date any of those girls he made out with. He didn’t want to make awkward conversation over dinner or talk about his family or introduce a girl to his friends. But he didn’t say any of that. Instead, he shoved Jayden’s shoulder.

“I don’t need to be tied down. That’s all girls do.”

Jayden bobbed his head in agreement after a minute, looking up as the bell rang. “Shit.”

Lucas was actually glad as he stood up, grabbing his bag from the ground. “I’ve got math,” he said, nodding to the guys as they went their separate ways.

Inside the halls, Lucas sighed. Maybe he should get a girlfriend, he thought, even though it made his stomach clench, uneasy. It would get Jayden off his back at least.

Dragging his feet, Lucas headed for the stairs, eyes on the ground, trying to even think of a girl he could date without completely hating it.

At the bottom of the stairs, Lucas paused as a few pieces of paper fluttered past him, and he heard an annoyed, “Fuck,” from above him.

Instinctively, he grabbed the papers off the floor, turning them over to see lines of music, handwritten, with scribbled notes in the margins.

Glancing up, he meant to give them back, but his hand froze as his eyes landed on the guy standing on the step above him.

He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a curl to his hair that reminded Lucas of Kes, but his eyes were lighter, hazel maybe. As Lucas stood there, hand halfway extended, he felt his heart do a little skip, a stutter as a strange feeling flooded his chest.

“Thanks,” the guy said, taking the papers Lucas hadn’t quite handed him, his smile warm, and Lucas felt himself swallow.

“What instrument is that?” he heard himself asking as the guy stuffed the papers back in a textbook.

The guys eyes flicked to him, and Lucas paused, suddenly nervous in a way he didn’t usually feel.

“Guitar,” the guy said, as though he didn’t notice the way Lucas was staring at him, and Lucas blinked away finally.

“You play guitar?” 

Standing on the stairs, Lucas barely noticed the students passed them, on their way to class. Class, where Lucas should have been instead of talking to a stranger on the stairs.

The guy shrugged, a small smile on his face that made Lucas feel weirdly mushy inside. “Guitar, bass, piano. Pretty much anything I can get my hands on.”

“And you write music?”

The guy smiled again, and Lucas thought he shouldn’t be asking so many questions. He didn’t even know this guy, had never seen him before, but he wasn’t running off.

“Songs,” the guy replied, glancing up as the bell rang again and the crowd thinned. “Class.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agreed, stepping up the stairs finally so they were on the same level. He didn’t know what else to say except that he didn’t want this to end, this moment, the conversation.

The guy nodded after a second, tucking his textbook under his arm and stepping down a step, eyes darting down Lucas. “Thanks again,” he only said, and Lucas swallowed down the goosebumps on the back of his neck as he watched the guy leave, staring until he rounded the corner and was gone.

Sighing, Lucas gave himself a shake as he turned finally, heading up the stairs. A cute guy had talked to him. A cute guy had _smiled_ at him. His heart thudded as he hurried down the hallway to class, and he couldn’t help his smile even as he slid into his seat.

“What are you smiling about?” Isa asked from the desk next to his, and he shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, forcing himself to focus on the teacher and not on memories of soft, warm eyes and a smile that made him forget he wasn’t supposed to like boys. 

After all, he’d probably never see him again anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucas’ phone buzzes with texts, messages from his friends asking why he’s not at the party yet, messages from the girl he just left at the coffee shop. All it took was one of those soft, mischievous smiles of Bastiaan’s, and Lucas would have followed him anywhere.

He doesn’t think about what that means, that it was so easy to sneak out while the girls were in the bathroom, that he doesn’t even feel bad about it as he follows Bastiaan down dark streets, not sure where they’re going, not really caring.

Ever since he bumped into Bastiaan on the stairs that day, it’s like everything has changed. Lucas can’t quite put his finger on it, but everything feels different.

“Come on,” Bastiaan says, turning back to grin at Lucas, and Lucas feels his heart skip a beat at something so simple.

“Where are we?” Lucas asks, gazing up at the dark building tucked down one of the many narrow alleys in the city.

“Come on and you’ll see,” Bastiaan replies, quirking his eyebrows, dark curls falling over his forehead as he holds out a hand to Lucas.

For a second, Lucas hesitates. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to go with Bastiaan. He wants so badly to follow him, to forget about the messages piling up on his phone, to believe he hasn’t been reading into this too much.

When he doesn’t respond, Bastiaan’s hand drops a little and he bites his lip, head tilted to the side. “Scared we’ll get in trouble?”

“Fuck you,” Lucas says easily, breaking into a smile, his hesitation disappearing at Bastiaan’s grin. His hand tingles when Bastiaan’s wraps around it, and Bastiaan’s laugh echoes in his ears.

Bastiaan drops his hand as they reach a door bathed in shadow, and Lucas almost wishes he hadn’t, but he doesn’t say it.

The door handle jiggles when Bastiaan tries it, and he pauses to glance down the alley before giving the door a shove. There’s a scrape and a crunch but the door swings inward and Bastiaan grins at Lucas.

“We’re definitely breaking in here,” Lucas says, but he doesn’t stop Bastiaan from pulling him inside.

“Hey, they should fix the lock if they don’t want people sneaking in,” he says, shutting the door behind Lucas and they’re thrust into darkness.

For a second, Lucas feels blind, and he can’t tell where Bastiaan is.

“Bas?” he asks, blinking in the darkness, nerves rising on his skin as he glances around.

“Come on.” Bastiaan’s voice is so close, quiet in Lucas’ ear, and Lucas feels Bastiaan’s hand sneaking down to his wrist, long fingers wrapping around it, tugging him forward.

Lucas wouldn’t stop Bastiaan even if he wanted to, letting him lead them out of the darkness.

He’s never let anyone do this, given himself over so easily to someone else. It’s been like that since the first time Lucas saw him, as if Bastiaan was someone he’d been waiting for.

Lucas has tried. He’s tried to ignore these feelings, first for Kes and now Bastiaan, growing stronger by the minute as they step into a dimly lit room filled with what looks like speakers, sound mixers, and other things Lucas doesn’t recognize. He’s tried to pretend it’s just curiosity, pretend he only joined Grindr to see if he really is interested.

It has all seemed so hard, though, actually meeting up with the guys who message him. Anxiety always lodges in his throat and he doesn’t know how many times he’s deleted and redownloaded the app. 

With Bastiaan, it’s not like that. There’s no anxiety, just a hum of something lighter deep inside him.

Bastiaan grins at him, dropping Lucas’ wrist, stepping away, toward a long, heavy curtain where he pauses. “Are you scared yet?”

“Only that your idea of fun needs some work.”

“You’re not having fun?” Bastiaan asks, as though he knows the answer, eyes shining, mouth curled into a knowing smile. “Maybe you should go back to the party.”

“Yeah, right,” Lucas says as Bastiaan grins. He’d rather be here with Bastiaan than anywhere else, even if he wouldn’t admit that.

“No one’s making you stay,” Bastiaan says easily, stepping beyond the curtain and disappearing.

He has a point. No one is making Lucas follow Bastiaan, shove aside the heavy velvet curtain and step onto an expansive stage. Hundreds of identical seats face him, dotted in rows, dim in the distant lights, and Lucas stares out at the rows, the cavernous ceiling, the heavy lights hanging from the ceiling pointing at the stage.

“It’s a concert hall,” Lucas says, turning to Bastiaan.

Bastiaan shrugs, leaning against the baby grand piano behind him. “My mom used to take me to concerts here, and I always hoped one day I might get to play it.”

“With one of your songs?” Lucas hasn’t heard any of the songs Bastiaan has written, but he knows he has an entire notebook full of them, some set to music, some just scribbled out lyrics in Bastiaan’s big, loopy handwriting.

Bastiaan smiles, stepping up to Lucas, and Lucas swears he feels the air shift around them.

“Maybe someday,” Bastiaan replies, meeting Lucas’ gaze, hazel eyes dark. “What about you? Are you hiding any musical talents?”

Lucas laughs, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to show you up,” he says, and Bastiaan tilts his head to the side.

“You’re that good, huh?” he asks, teasingly. “I can take it.”

Lucas laughs, doesn’t protest as Bastiaan turns to the piano and slides back the cover.

“Just remember you asked for this,” he says as he sits down next to Bastiaan. They’re close enough that he can feel the warmth of Bastiaan’s hip against his own, feel Bastiaan’s arm brushing against his, and he should be more nervous than he is with Bastiaan so close, Bastiaan’s gaze intense as he runs his fingers over the keys.

Bastiaan doesn’t reply, waiting for Lucas to play.

The melody Lucas plucks out makes Bastiaan immediately laugh, over the fumbling rendition of Drie kleine kleutertjes, the only song he knows how to play and one of the few he remembers from childhood.

“You really aim to impress,” Bastiaan says, pulling Lucas’ fingers away from the keys despite Lucas’ protest.

“I hadn’t finished.”

“I’m sorry, maestro,” Bastiaan says, gaze soft in a way that makes Lucas’ heart melt. “But it was just too good to listen to. It deserves a grand piano, not a baby grand.”

Rolling his eyes, Lucas can’t bring himself to be offended. “Okay, then what’s appropriate for a baby grand?”

“Here,” Bastiaan says, taking Lucas’ hands and positioning them over the keys, glancing at Lucas for a second, up to his eyes, the smile at his lips. “Let me show you.”

Lucas isn’t really paying attention to the notes Bastiaan is pressing, fingers covering his own, and the contrast of their skin distracts him, Bastiaan’s slender fingers against his, the way Bastiaan’s thumb brushes against his wrist and Lucas shivers.

The air is thick around them, their hands casting shadows over the keys, and Lucas can feel Bastiaan’s shoulder pressed to his, warm and easy, as if they’ve been doing this their whole lives.

“See, that’s not fair,” Lucas says when Bastiaan moves his hands and goes into a complicated but beautiful melody that surrounds them.

“Life isn’t fair,” Bastiaan replies, cheeky, grinning at Lucas now, not even looking at the keys as he plays. 

Shaking his head, Lucas can’t help smiling. How Bastiaan can be so charming and so talented at the same time, he’ll never know. “Bastard.”

Bastiaan doesn’t miss a note, arching his eyebrows at Lucas before turning back to the keys. “You shouldn’t distract a musician, you know.”

“Let me try again,” Lucas says, reaching for Bastiaan’s hands, and Bastiaan lets him pull them away.

Bastiaan’s eyebrows go up. “Going to impress me properly?”

“Maybe,” Lucas says, but when he starts to play his simple melody again, Bastiaan doesn’t laugh, sitting quietly and watching Lucas concentrate on the notes. He’s not a great piano player, not like Bastiaan, who plays every instrument under the sun, but he can play this song, as long as he’s not distracted. “See?” he says, glancing at Bastiaan as he plucks out the notes, a smile curving his lips. “Are you impressed ye—”

Lucas doesn’t finish his question, not when Bastiaan leans in, closing the short distance between them and kissing him, lips pressed softly against Lucas’.

The hall falls silent except for his own heartbeat as Lucas’ brain rushes to process what’s happening. It only lasts a second, but it feels like a lifetime. Bastiaan’s lips are soft, slightly chapped, and Lucas doesn’t even know what to do when Bastiaan pulls back after a second.

It feels like everything has been leading up to this, from that first meeting on the stairs to that first time Lucas had spent hours alone with Bastiaan at his house, talking about music and movies and everything and nothing at the same time.

“You shouldn’t distract a musician,” Lucas says, lifting his gaze to Bastiaan’s, willing to hope, willing to give into to the warmth bursting through his chest, and it’s there when he looks, bright and shining and filled with happiness as Bastiaan grins, and Lucas isn’t sure who moves first this time.

He’s never kissed a guy, but he’s kissed plenty of girls and not once did it feel anything like this as Lucas pushes his fingers into Bastiaan’s soft, dark curls and opens his mouth to Bastiaan’s. It feels right, like puzzle pieces falling into place, like everything has always been leading to this, to this moment when Lucas can only concentrate on the butterflies in his stomach, the shiver down his spine, the way Bastiaan kisses him like maybe he’s been waiting for this too.

For the first time in his life, Lucas isn’t thinking about why he’s kissing someone, who exactly he’s trying to convince. He wants this. He’s wanted it for longer than he’s even known, long before he met Bastiaan and fell for those beautifully dark eyes, golden and green and soft in a way that makes Lucas feel like this could be real.

This is it, he thinks as Bastiaan’s hands grip his neck, gentle fingers tilting his chin upward, into the kiss, into the slide of their lips together. This is what he’s been waiting for, even if he didn’t know it.

He doesn’t want it to end, this moment, sitting on the tiny piano bench, falling so easily into Bastiaan’s arms, the way Bastiaan tilts his head into the kiss, laughs at Lucas fumbling to pull him closer. It’s all the happiness he’s been missing, soft and warm and all-encompassing as they sit in the dark hall. He can’t even begin to describe the way his heart blooms in his chest, the feeling welling up inside him as he smiles against Bastiaan’s lips.

Light floods the stage and Lucas jerks back to blink, blinded, as a voice booms from the back of the theater.

“Hey! How’d you get in here?!”

Lucas can’t see the man at the top row of seats, but he doesn’t wait for his eyes to adjust, cursing as Bastiaan laughs and stumbles off the bench, pulling Lucas up.

They run from the stage, shoving aside the curtain, and Lucas doesn’t even care if they get caught, not when Bastiaan glances back, eyes bright, something unspoken passing between them as they reach the back door and yank it open. He doesn’t care about what that happens next as long as it’s with Bastiaan.


	3. Chapter 3

The room isn’t familiar, posters on the wall, tacked up messily, one on top of the other, of bands and musicians, half of which Lucas has never heard of. A guitar sits nestled on a pile of clothes in the corner, loose leaf sheets of music littering the floor around it. None of it feels familiar as Lucas lifts his gaze to Bastiann curled in beside him on the bed.

He can’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips when Bastiaan meets his gaze, almost knowing, eyes still puffy from sleep, his dark curls falling over his forehead.

Surreal is the only word that comes to mind as Lucas reaches for a curl, moves it gently aside, somehow overwhelmed with just the fact that he _can_ do that with Bas.

“Your hair is so soft,” he says before he can stop himself, cringing despite the way Bastiaan’s smile widens.

“Glad you think so,” Bastiaan replies, leaning in to kiss the blush on Lucas’ cheek. Lucas isn’t sure if it’s from his idiotic mouth or just the fact that he’s waking up next to a guy for the first time in his life.

And it’s not just any guy. It’s a guy who broke into a concert hall to play him a song on the piano, a guy who makes his heart beat faster for no other reason than the fact that he exists, that he’s lying next to Lucas right now, fingers tracing his jaw line as if he’s trying to memorize it.

Lucas swallows down the butterflies climbing into his throat, forcing his fingers to release Bastiaan’s hair and tuck his hand against his chest instead, as if he shouldn’t be touching.

Unfamiliar, that’s what it is when Bastiaan pulls Lucas’s hand away from his chest, down to Bastiaan’s waist instead, as if saying it’s okay.

“You’re beautiful,” Bastiaan says a second later, words brushed against Lucas’ lips, and Lucas feels his chest seize, a tight squeeze he can’t explain, and he laughs in response, shoving Bastiaan back.

“Shut up.”

“You don’t believe me?” Bastiaan asks, dark eyebrows rising, almost teasing, and Lucas jerks as Bastiaan’s fingers dig into his sides. “I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Laughing, Lucas shoves Bastiaan’s hands away, rolling onto his back, head sinking into the pillow.

“What would you lie about?” he asks finally as Bastiaan gazes down at him, propped on his elbow.

For a second, Bastiaan doesn’t reply, brushing a thumb over the freckle above Lucas’ lip instead, and Lucas’ stomach flips over, still so giddy, still so unable to believe this is really happening.

The cold blue light of morning is giving way to bright gold as the sun rises out the window, filtering through the gap in long yellow curtains brushing the floor. A long line of sunlight falls over Bastiaan’s face as they lie there, illuminating the glints of green in his irises, the soft curve of his face, dark eyelashes brushing against his cheek as he looks down at Lucas. 

Beautiful is the only word that comes to mind, and Lucas smiles to himself at the thought.

“Sometimes I think it’s better to let people believe their own version of the truth,” Bastiaan says, tilting his head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

Bastiaan jerks his chin, just barely, a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth, and Lucas isn’t sure what it means.

“Sometimes you lie so you won’t hurt people,” he says quietly, “or so you won’t get hurt.”

“Lying to yourself, you mean?” Lucas asks as his stomach clenches. He knows what that’s like, how hard it is, how much it hurts.

“Mmm,” Bastiaan hums, looking away from Lucas, at one of the posters stuck up on the wall behind his bed. The corners are peeling, as though it’s been there forever, tears in the edges as if it’s been ripped down then carefully put back up.

“So you don’t think I’m beautiful,” Lucas says when it seems Bastiaan is far away, lost somewhere in his own mind, somewhere Lucas doesn’t know about yet.

That brings Bastiaan back, shaking his head, rolling his eyes, smiling as he cups Lucas’ face with his hands.

“When we met that day on the stairs, all I remember thinking is, fuck, how am I supposed to get through the rest of this year knowing this gorgeous guy is going to be around the whole time?”

Lucas wants to roll his eyes, but his cheeks go warm instead and he shakes his head. “Liar.”

Bastiaan doesn’t reply this time, leaning in and meeting Lucas’ lips for a soft, lingering kiss that steals his breath away, as if all the air in his chest vanishes with Bastiaan’s mouth against his, the gentle press of his lips, Bas’ fingertips on his cheeks, like a dream.

“Haven’t you ever told a girl she’s beautiful?” Bastiaan asks as Lucas exhales, gentle, their faces close enough that Lucas can count every eyelash, see the way his eyes shift from green into gold around the edges.

“Maybe,” he admits, “but I never meant it.”

“That’s the difference,” Bastiaan says, eyes flicking to Lucas’, and Lucas doesn’t reply as Bas kisses him again.

He wants to stay here forever, shut up in Bastiaan’s room, his parents gone for the weekend, leaving them blissfully alone in their own little world if only for a little while. It feels like it’s never going to end, and Lucas is okay with that.

It doesn’t feel like it was just last night they were just friends, but it hasn’t felt like that since the beginning. With Bastiaan’s lips pressed to his, a soft caress that makes Lucas’ heart ache, makes him feel safe in a way he hasn’t for a long time, he knows this is all he wants.

“Should we get breakfast?” Bastiaan asks when he breaks the kiss, snuggling back in next to Lucas as though he has no intention of getting up, and Lucas smiles at him, shakes his head.

“Let’s just stay here.”

Bastiaan nods after a second, and as their lips meet again, Lucas smiles. He’d rather stay there forever.


	4. Chapter 4

Lucas couldn’t help his smile as he leaned against the tree in the courtyard, hardly paying attention to the students heading for school, except to check if Bastiaan was one of them.

_I’ll see you on Monday_, was the last text Lucas had sent, and Lucas had to force himself to stop grinning at his phone, even though Bastiaan hadn’t replied.

It was ridiculous, that one weekend could make him feel like this, like everything had finally changed in a good way. There were butterflies in his stomach every time he thought he caught sight of Bastiaan’s dark hair.

He’d spent every minute of Sunday reliving his and Bastiaan’s last kiss, soft and full of promise, lingering in the doorway to Bastiaan’s house. He hadn’t wanted to leave, hadn’t wanted to return to reality, to his mom asking how Kes was when he got home. He’d managed to lie and shut himself in his room where he could relive the last two days over and over again.

“I never want to leave this room,” Bastiaan had said, fingers curling into Lucas’ hoodie, close enough to kiss him, so Lucas did, closing his eyes even when Bastiaan pulled back.

“So don’t,” he murmured, feeling the softness of Bastiaan’s skin against his lips as they lay there in the stillness of the afternoon.

He still could feel Bastiaan’s hands on his face, the press of his lips as though it was seared into Lucas’ memory as he closed out of his messages and scanned the groups of students clustered around the front door. He didn’t see Bastiaan there, and he sighed.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—he just knew that everything felt different now. There was a boy, a boy who liked him, a boy who broke into concert halls for him then spent every minute of a whole weekend curled up with him in bed, talking about stupid shit like jumping off bridges into freezing cold water and if parallel universes really did exist.

It was more than Lucas had ever had before.

Pulling out his phone, he brought up Bastiaan’s messages.

_Are you at school? I want to see you._

For a second, he hesitated. Was that too desperate? Fuck it, he thought. He’d just spent the entire weekend kissing Bastiaan, sharing a bed, waking up to Bastiaan’s messy curls and sleepy eyes, soft smiles that made Lucas’ whole chest ache. He could send a stupid text like that.

“Hey.”

Lucas fumbled his phone as he looked up to Kes standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” Lucas greeted him, swallowing down the way his heart was pounding in his throat, as if Kes would somehow know he was texting a boy. “What?” he asked when Kes didn’t say anything else, pushing aside a wet leaf stuck to the sidewalk.

Kes glanced up, seemingly unimpressed at Lucas’ question. “What?” he repeated, and Lucas frowned.

“Do I have to say what again?” Lucas asked when Kes just stood there.

“Jesus Christ, Luc,” Kes said finally, shoulders scrunched up as he took his hands from his pockets to throw them into the air. “You don’t have any idea, do you?”

Staring at Kes, Lucas wracked his brain, trying to think what he could have possibly screwed up. His stomach went cold as he remembered finally, and he cursed.

“Shit, Kes, I’m so sorry,” he said, and Kes shook his head even as Lucas took a step forward. “I completely forgot about your birthday. Fuck, I’m the worst friend.”

He’d completely forgotten about the party—Jayden had drilled it into his head enough that Lucas should never have forgotten. He’d known Kes since they were five. There was no excuse.

“It was my mom,” he said, the lie falling from his lips before he could even wrap his head around it. “She had an episode and I-I meant to text and I just forgot.” Grimacing, he felt his heart sinking into his stomach as he watched Kes sigh, like he was disappointed in Lucas. That hurt more than anything.

“It’s okay,” Kes said, even though Lucas knew it wasn’t. “I was just worried. You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lucas didn’t meet Kes’ eyes, determinedly not checking the front door for signs of Bastiaan.

He heard Kes’ exhale, a huff, as though there was no point in saying what he thought. That made Lucas look up. Kes had fixed him with a look, serious, concerned.

“You know you can tell me anything,” he said, so sincere it broke Lucas’ heart a little. He swallowed down the lump rising in his throat. “If it’s your mom or whatever.

Lucas wanted to. God, he wanted to tell Kes so badly about Bastiaan, about the way Bastiaan made him feel, like something wasn’t wrong with him, like maybe he could be happy despite his mom, despite everything. He wanted to, but he couldn’t bring himself to open up that door, not yet.

“It’s nothing,” he assured Kes finally. “Just the usual stress. Look, I’m really sorry I missed your birthday. I promise I will make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to,” Kes said, but Lucas shook his head. 

“I’m going to,” he promised, hoping Kes understood how much he meant it.

Kes didn’t reply for a second until he nodded. “You did miss Jayden getting completely shitfaced and hitting on Engel.”

“No!” Lucas gasped, relieved to see Kes smile as they turned toward the school. “What did she do?”

“Last I saw, he got a slap to the face.”

“No less than what he deserved,” Lucas said with a laugh, climbing the stairs. He couldn’t help glancing around as they reached the top, but there was no sign of Bastiaan. As Kes went in, Lucas dug out his phone, checking his messages, but there were none from Bastiaan.

Sighing, he shoved it away and followed Kes inside.

“I think Isa’s still into me,” Kes said as they walked, and Lucas hummed quietly.

“Really?” he asked, but he wasn’t thinking about Isa. His mind was somewhere else completely as they headed down the hall and his phone remained disappointingly silent.


End file.
